Environs just below my apartment 'studio' window
demonstrate why this season is called "FALL".
Fading fast. Still thrilling. Something about that Autumn aroma!
on Tuesday, after helping with Follow Up training in Sharon.
Another thing that filled our lamps was the uplift in energy
and 'spirit' in the Mission Office as Sister and Elder Blackham
have arrived after driving cross country from Central Valley, UT.
First day photo: (l to r) Jodi, Vince, Cami & Don Blackham,
Elders Bigler & Larson (Tech Specs), Elders Emmett
& Wells, Elders Allison & T. Smith.
As we listen to these young Elders describe their experiences
here in New Hampshire Manchester Mission, we've become
accustomed to "missionary speak". But I admit I gasped
when I overheard a phrase months ago that refers
to the circumstance where a companion remains while
the other missionary returns home as term of service is completed.
At end of the final transfer, the companion is said to have
"killed off his/her companion."
Seems like a colloquialism fit for the upcoming festival!
It's Halloween Week, and for missionaries who are charged
to be inside, off the streets early on October 31st, that
means "Deep Clean Halloween". We've been 'saving' a spooky
experience we had shortly after our move to Greenview Drive.
Seeking walking routes, our exploration
led to a nearby residential street, and at the far end, a trail
into the woods. Twas' a dark and stormy night -- or at least
evening -- and as we stepped into the unfamiliar woods,
we both were stopped short by the hint of a ghostly figure nearly
concealed behind a tall dark oak. Can you imagine
the trepidation with which we edged forward?
FYI: It seemed much darker than this image represents.
(You'll need to stay through to the end to see what it WAS!)
My somewhat seasonal topic will deal with cemeteries
in New England, and some intriguing and special
experiences at Sleepy Hollow Cemetery in Concord, MA,
(shown below in autumn), and the Old Burying Ground
at Historic Deerfield.
Part of our early Sept. trip traveling to middle Massachusetts
was a swing into Amherst to visit the homesites
of Emily Dickinson and family members. Pandemic impacts
restricted us to visit only the grounds and not inside the center.
This, below, is the Homestead which she seldom left during
the final 20 years of her reclusive, but passionate life.
Here, following, is the exterior of Evergreens across the lawn
where her brother Austin and wife lived, who comprised all
of Emily's in-person social world.
Any familiar with the poetry of Dickinson will recall
the peculiar talent and vision she evokes. Favored topics
were her relationship with Deity, and exploring death
while pondering the meaning of life.
Borrowed here a stanza as theme preamble:
Because I could not stop for Death --
He kindly stopped for me --
The Carriage held but just Ourselves --
And Immortality.
From our first days as new residents here, we counted
town cemeteries as plentiful as red barns or white steeples.
Find, below, a small cluster of gravesites we pulled over to
view on a backroad near Georgetown, Maine. So typically,
this cemetery is on the established route leading to
the next town, always near the village center or at crossroads.
Early Americans remembered their departed, and kept
the insistence of mortality close to their daily sight-line.
As smaller towns grew, burying grounds expanded,
or multiplied, very often near or next to the various houses
of worship. With passing years, those hallowed grounds
often interfaced with differing activities or community needs.
Here in Manchester, one example of this is shown, below,
where Merrill Cemetery has become a tiny notch in a busy
commercial district. (That cement-colored building
at left background is the nearby Mall of New Hampshire,
across the street is a Japanese restaurant and
the Barns & Noble bookstore, and just up the street
from auto repair and personal fitness businesses.)
Nearer downtown Manchester is this fence-bound
cemetery, completely surrounded by commercial
and dense single and multi family dwellings.
In a more rural setting on Mountain Base Road
just yards from my favorite Red Barn in Goffstown
we spied this community burying ground,
set high on a hill -- a smart choice to keep gravesites
sound and protected from water/flood damage.
I was already interested in grave marker stone art.
Then I met Sarah, below, at a craftman's fair in
February, where she explained her New England Impression
hand-crafted fired-clay jewelry. She takes molds
of certain portions of carved head stones, then creates
small pieces for necklace pendants or earring danglers,
and provides information about where designs originated.
(You can ask to see what I purchased sometime, if you like.)
Online, I stumbled upon an advert by a Maine gentleman who
has chronicled more than one historic cemetery near Portland, ME.
His focus recently is on these "billboard" style headstones
that are unique to New England.
Here is another example, from a cemetery near Yorktown, ME.
Why are cemeteries often places of picturesque beauty?
Take this one, below, that I recently discovered on
a backroad as I traveled through Canterbury Center, NH.
They offer an open view (especially in a place where
the forest encroaches), are cared for and public, are consecrated as
a place for quiet reflection away from other noisier activities.
They have several things going for them.
Why the interest in grave markers?
As a designer, I'm never disappointed at the bounty
of inspiration and visual delights that burst upon the eye.
This sample is from Sleepy Hollow Cemetery near Concord MA.
Our early junkets to Concord's Old North Bridge
took us into Concord town, where on a steep hill
above the main village street is the 'Old Hill Cemetery".
This below is the view downhill toward town's shopping district.
And here, the view up the hill.
We enjoyed visiting multiple times.
Here is a more modern addition describing some of
the important individuals whose graves are found here.
The one that I know most about is Col. John Buttrick
who was involved in the Battle of Concord
at Old North Bridge - site of "the shot heard 'round the world."
So fun to see the interesting artwork that expressed
more primitive views of life and death in those historic eras.
As a wordsmith, I read these only in metered amounts,
because I get agitated at the carvers' choice
to simply continue the words or phrases tightly between
the side margins, then onto the next line when he
ran out of room. Fun, also to see the scribed guidelines -
these were sculptor artisans, not programmed machines.
Not far from Concord is Lexington, where this historic
cemetery marker documents a different pandemic's
rampage through that community. This ground-level
billboard sign includes six members of one family,
adults and children taken suddenly.
Historic Deerfield's Old Burying-Ground was a destination we
looked forward to visiting. This thin book, below, helps me
remember the important function of documenting and exploring
cemeteries, a genealogical tool that links families through
generations. Reading these epitaphs, transcribed by a woman
concerned that they might soon be lost to weather and time,
(and taken up by a different lady after the first herself passed),
I'm struck by the differences over time at how death and
the life-after are viewed, memorialized and illustrated.
Here's one line I like from a verse that gets dark later on:
Life glows and smiles with prospects bright
And another whose meaning I'm still deciphering:
Hark they whisper
Angels say, Sister
Spirits come away.
Older stone carvings on most ancient graves
here at Deerfield present passing in terms of skulls
and the angel of death, with epitaphs calling readers
to repentance and more awareness of mortality, interspersed
with lovely roses and vines like those on the side panels here.
Individuals buried there range somewhat evenly between very young
and reasonably old (to 70s and 80s).
Here is another ghostly skull carving.
And a third with angel-wings and skull.
Appropriate for Halloween, I'm guessing.
Later, the artwork took a more sympathetic outlook.
This table-style headstone, below, marks the gravesite of
a former "important person" in the town,
such as pastor or civic leader. Beyond, graves are marked
with tall head stones and shorter foot stones.
I've already shared this headstone in a previous post.
Each time I see this image, as when I viewed the stone
in person, I am touched by the simplicity of the mother
with child carving. So tender, and so expressive:
what mother would not - and does not- venture to
the brink of death, or to the grave, for the sake of her child.
Now I want to share the remarkable day of contrasts
when I found opportunity to finally enter Sleepy Hollow,
near Concord, MA. My desire was to visit Author's Ridge
where many influential writers were laid to rest.
What I experienced was much more remarkable.
My day was plotted to visit Walden Pond, then travel
over to Concord. I expected to find a contemplative walk
through nature that had inspired a transcendentalist.
Instead, I was shocked by merry-making humanity
and abundant commercialism there at Walden.
As I drove through the gates and the sun peeked out
from the intermittent cloudiness, I found at the cemetery
the peace and solitude that I had been seeking.
(This image, below, shows a page from a guidebook
presenting many of the artists, authors and poets
laid to rest here.)
Authors' Ridge includes many familiar names.
Indeed, the question (Where's Waldo) that I posed in my post
about Walden Pond could be answered: he is here!
Ralph Waldo Emerson spoke at the 1855 Sleepy Hollow dedication
suggesting that the valley of this graveyard was "happily divided by
Nature as to admit the relation between the Past and the Present."
This is the Hawthorne family plot . . .
. . . and the grave marker of Nathaniel Hawthorne.
Across and down the path is the family plot of the Alcotts,
including this tiny ground level marker for Louisa May,
author of "Little Women".
This is the Thoreau Family plot, with the marker of
Henry David at left edge with the objects in memorial
left by visitors who come to pay homage.
This, below, is the view across the "happy valley" from
Author's Ridge, again under overcast sun.
Quiet. Serene. Evocative of green and growing life
and also of life passing. I unexpectedly felt an upsurge
of joy and calm. When, back inside my parked Subaru,
I answered a cell phone message from my son Cory.
I described the contrast between
the morning and the afternoon experiences.
Hopefully, he could tell, across the miles,
that I had been touched!
Reflecting as I often do, about the passing of my two
most beloved life influencers, mother Helen
and father Gus, I evaluate what is left behind once
we have toiled and struggled, made good or bad choices,
failed sometimes, but continued to repent and try again.
Is it only the marker that is left, and a 300 word obit?
Of course NOT! But it makes for valuable introspection.
As a quiltmaker, I hope some of my creations will pass along
to loved ones who will remember their mother or NanaJo
who loved many things, including stitching.
To assist with that stored visualization, I have planned
for a 'funeral quilt' to drape my closed casket, spread
beneath the cascade of beautiful flowers in the hours
before my remains find final rest. I've been working
on it during this mission sojourn, and am happy to report
that the top is completed.
Here, above, was the collection of fabrics in my selected
color scheme, with hand piecing templates, ready to travel.
Below, a few of the completed blocks with one underway,
photographed in April when I was banished from daily office
work to minimize interaction and exposures to COVID-19.
Having my hands 'full' and busy, is my response
to Mr. Rogers' advice to "find something to do
while you're waiting", so the extra time spent at home
(in apartment) did not overly trouble me.
Here, below, I stand with my wall-pinned top,
now awaiting layering and quilting at and for a future time.
Please remember this special time when it was pieced.
(Patchwork pattern is often called "Winding Ways"
which I think is fitting to describe a life's journey.)
Now, if you were shaking your head that my planning
has become a little pathological,
what will you think of this next image?
Explanation:
When my parents came to the end of their mortality,
their preparations blessed our lives - the children -
to let us focus on feeling, together time, and healing.
From that time, we Warners have endeavored to get to some
equivalent level of readiness. Here is our self-designed
grave marker, carved and placed on the pre-need purchased
plot in Lehi City Cemetery. Dates to materialize later.
And lastly . . .
here is the specter that awaited us on our
river trail walk, cap and elbow poking from behind
the tree. No explanation about when or why, but
someone has a sense of humor backed by actions!
And it gave us a chuckle to accompany our alarm.
We oldies are speaking too regularly now with
Medicare supplement experts, reminding us of aging.
One good thing that comes with age is a better perspective
on end of life, what is valuable, or not so much.
I certainly don't mind cemetery strolls like I may have
as a pre-adolescent. And acceptance of the end
makes for meaningful existence in the middle.
Much firmer in our understanding and embracing
of the Gospel of Jesus Christ, our Savior,
"the author and finisher of our faith" than when younger.
We rely on his Grace on this side of the resurrection,
and on his powerful Atonement on the other.
Hope your spooky season can be mirthful,
but perhaps thoughtful, as well.
Happy Halloween! Happy life!
